his car.
Oh well, she thought miserably, there was always tomorrow.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The celebration following Mark Coleman's election took place at the country estate of Judge Julian Reed. It was well underway at one-o'clock in the morning when Dianne arrived with her husband and the Faros, immediately after the opposition's announcement of concession. The sprawling, two-storied temple of luxury was filled with chosen political dignitaries, their wives and women, along with selected couples from the country club set… all Mark Coleman supporters and Judge Reed serfs.
Dianne couldn't help but smile inwardly as she observed the gathered clan of insidious politicos, and professional leeches; a more lecherous conglomeration of males hadn't been assembled since the days of Nero, she mused, nor was one apt to find a more promiscuous group of eager, anticipating females than the mates accompanying them. Her own eyes blurred from the excess of liquor she had consumed throughout the long tiresome evening, still her wits were keen enough to see that the swapping process was progressing nicely, with couples slipping off toward the second floor at an ever increasing rate, along with some rare and stimulating performances taking place in darkened corners, nooks and crannies… wherever one might turn. Soft music composed the background, accompanied by an ample supply of absinthe and Pernod. Couples danced… rather, remained on their feet in a dry-run semblance of the sex-act they were working up to. It was a celebration all right, she decided, but Mark's victory was not the reason for it, merely the excuse… if such was necessary.
Following their entrance and the brief congratulatory well-wishes of the more experienced sycophants, Dianne saw the 'kingmaker' rolling his wheelchair toward them. The sudden shock of the repugnant sight caused her to momentarily freeze and stare. His tremendous obesity was unbelievable. She was aware that because of it, he had taken to a wheelchair to make himself more mobile, that he suffered no crippling of limbs… simply that walking was too much of an effort with his vast bulk, but she'd had no idea of the enormity of his massive body. It near-nauseated her, still, she managed a smile when he said: 'And you must be the delightful creature I've heard so much about.' He grinned with a small, baby like mouth set in the middle of what seemed an acre of fat. Multiple chins hung below it. Tiny, wet, blue-eyes on either side of a button-nose raked her body lasciviously and a little pointed tongue popped out to lick at the red, wormish lips. His hair, straight and sparse, was jet-black, his flesh, pink-hued; he looked thirtyish rather than a man in his mid-fifties.
Dianne swallowed tightly and heard Mark introduce her. With an effort, she responded to his compliments, remained stark still while he continued to ogle her, then, let off a little inward sigh as he acknowledged the others and moved into political conversation with the new young senator. Abruptly, it was done, the Judge suddenly wheeling about and disappearing through a doorway, leaving them.
'I-I had no idea,' Dianne said, looking at Tonya Faro.
'Handsome, isn't he?' Tonya commented, smiling. 'You must get to know him better, dear… and I'm sure you will.'
Mark cleared his throat nervously, and Dianne watched the nasty glare he tossed in Tonya's direction. She hadn't quite caught the meaning of the attractive, dark-eyed woman's words, but frankly, it mattered little to her anyway. Nothing much in the last few days… since the horrible episode with Phillip, had moved her. She had emerged from that, heartbroken at first, then bitter, and finally more resolved than ever. The Dianne Coleman who stood amidst these cruel, greedy, licentious people, she knew, was now as cold, as calculating and determined as any one of them… and soon they'd know too. But right now, she was more concerned with keeping the semi- stupifying alcohol glow alive inside her. During the past week she had drunk more than ever before in her life, knowing that it was not an answer, merely a tranquilizer, but it had helped her from completely shattering after Phillip's brutal raping of her soft young body.
'Well, are we going to have a drink, or are we just going to stand here throwing dirty-looks around?' she said, abruptly walking around them toward the small self-service bar.
Mark caught up to her and took her arm. 'Don't you think you've had enough?' he said, a touch of concern in his voice and expression.
Dianne returned his gaze, not quite contemptuously. She smiled. His growing attention and seeming regard for her welfare of late, amused her.
'I beg your pardon, Senator,' she said. 'But I thought this was a victory celebration… a party of some such nature…'
'Come along, Dear,' A.C. Faro interrupted. 'I'll fix you a drink.'
Dianne slipped her arm through the handsome Commissioner's, gave him a warm smile as she saw the look of anger blanch from her husband's face.
'And you can pour me one of those nice Pernods, Darling,' said Tonya wrapping a naked arm about Mark's waist. 'Then, I have some other plans for you and me, involving, shall we say, the ardent pursuits of amour…'
Mark had reached one of his unpredictable, liquor-sodden moods in a matter of an hour's time, openly kissing and running his hands over a most receptive Tonya Faro. Dianne had purposely retired to the lap of A.C. in a partially secluded corner armchair where she could watch and be watched by her husband. She, too, was playing little kissing and hand games with the handsome Commissioner, but her enthusiasm was pretended, projected solely for the purpose of torturing her husband… if such it was, for to hurt him and keep hurting him as deeply as he had hurt her had become a monomania with her. Not that that alone was going to satisfy her… indeed no, it wasn't. There was much, yet, to come!
The sweet, licorice taste and effect of the multiple absinthes she had drunk spurred her on and helped loosen her morals enough so that she stopped the infernal blushing as A.C. caressed and stroked her breasts, ran his strong, large hands down her side and over her rounded hip and buttock to her thigh, smoothing with warm, arousing strokes that Mark couldn't miss seeing. However, she hadn't expected that his massaging and stroking would awaken the little prurient sensations in her… that was contrary to her purpose… but they did. She found herself responding more intently to his kisses, his tongue slipping between her lips into her mouth and she shifted on his lap, squirming her buttocks down against his leg nervously, feeling his strong thigh muscle brush electrically against the soft swelling of her vulva. She jumped at the contact and the more unexpected shock it brought, her breath quickening.
Faro sensed the sudden excitement surging through her and made his kisses more fervent, increasing the urgency of his caresses. He felt his prick leap beneath her thigh and her responsive little pressure against it.
The presence of Mark and Tonya Faro in another chair somewhere near them, drifted for a moment from Dianne's fogged mind. The heat and excitement of their own actions was, contrary to her plans, begging to stimulate her hotly. She couldn't resist squirming down against his thigh again, feeling the hardened sinews of his leg push dress and panties into her slightly moistened crevice; she rubbed herself gently upon it, working the lips of her vagina open slightly against the hard flesh. Her body rocked on it in almost indiscernible rhythm while his rigid, jerking member responded in tempo against her thigh. She could feel the wetness spreading further between her thighs and she opened them slightly to gain greater contact with his leg; its hardness and her motion causing her panties to rub tauntingly upon her tiny, rising clitoris.
It was then that she shifted once more and turned enough to see that Mark and Tonya were no place to be seen. She sat up quickly.
'Where did they go?'
'Upstairs probably to find a stall,' A.C. said smiling, his hand continuously kneading the firm, voluptuous protuberance of her right full breast, tweaking its erect throbbing nipple and sending a rich little shudder through her.
Dianne jumped off his lap. She grabbed his hand. 'Come on. I want to find them and watch this. I want to see the whole damned show,' she said, an unexplainable and exciting desire to play voyeur filling her.
Her glazed hazel-eyes sparkled with a tempest of flushed eagerness that stimulated A.C. Faro even more so. He got to his feet and led her off toward the stairway.
'That shouldn't be hard,' he said. 'The good Judge has a game-room with a row of plexiglass, soundproof, walled cubicles, each equipped with a bed. Little masks are available for those who want to wear them, but that's
